If there ever was a clear hate crime it was the Toulouse killings. I wonder if the French will be able to call it for what it is and shut down these dens of iniquity.
At Toulouse killer’s mosque, doubt reigns
Published 31 minutes ago
The El-Hoseine Mosque in the Basso-Cambo neighbourhood of Toulouse, which Mohamed Merah attended, is in some ways makeshift, constructed out of pre-fabricated trailers and a large awning.
Andrew Chung/TORONTO STAR
ANDREW CHUNGStaff Reporter
TOULOUSE, FRANCE—At the end of the “A” subway line, far on the northern edge of this city, and tucked to the side of a vast, garbage-strewn parking lot, is the mosque that Mohamed Merah attended.
The El-Hoseine Mosque is not easily identifiable as a mosque. There’s neither a minaret, nor any architecture to speak of. Actually it’s fashioned out of a pre-fabricated work trailer, with an outdoor awning twice the area of the inside. It’s there that most of the adherents must gather during crowded Friday prayers, even in winter.
Merah, the 23-year-old self-professed Al-Qaeda ally who confessed to seven murders and was himself killed in a shootout last Thursday, was an off-and-on member here. Several people either didn’t remember him, or remembered seeing him but never spoke to him. Others had limited contact.
Whatever their recollection of the young man with the affinity for motorbikes and stunting on two wheels, what they seem to have in common is a strong suspicion of the official version of events.
And a strong denunciation of the current state of affairs in their communities and their place as Muslims in French society.
“I’m not sure what happened, but at this moment I have my doubts about it,” said Mamar Messaoui, 34, a resident of the neighbourhood, called Basso-Cambo, one of France’s countless suburbs, or “banlieues,” distinguished by their endless expanses of concrete, bunker-like apartment blocks, and their poverty.
“What I do know is that it seems to benefit the president.”
“I’m not a conspiracy theorist,” added another member, clad in a pristine black tunic and skullcap. “But nobody saw what went on inside the apartment. No one has heard his voice or seen any pictures. Everything was locked down tight.”
Merah’s makeshift mosque is one of hundreds in France whose inadequate facilities attempt to service the growing Muslim population, now at over 6 million, more than 50,000 in Toulouse alone.
In the wake of the Merah terror spree, they are also a source of worry for many local and banlieue mayors of all political stripes, who fear radicalization in their midst.
It’s a fear whose cause is championed by the right and the extreme right in the presidential campaign, set for its first-round vote April 22. Front National candidate Marine LePen said she wants intelligence to “infiltrate” these areas and their mosques. She vowed to bring radical Islam “to its knees.”
No one at the El-Hoseine here said they condoned what Merah did. The general feeling, rather, seemed to be uncertainty over exactly what that was.
Merah’s life came to a bloody end last Thursday in a shootout with police who stormed his apartment. He’d been under siege there for 32 hours. Police said he confessed to killing three paratroopers, a rabbi and three Jewish schoolchildren, all at point-blank range, and filming it.
He told siege negotiators his actions were to avenge dead Palestinian children and to protest France’s presence in Afghanistan. He travelled there and to Pakistan twice in the last two years, where he said he was trained.
He’d amassed a sizeable weapons cache, including machine guns and automatic pistols.
The 32-year-old mosque member in the black tunic, a convert to Islam in his teens, said he spoke to Merah once in a while. He wouldn’t give his name fearing any consequences of a link to Merah.
One anecdote sticks out in his mind: A few years ago, Merah’s father had a car accident and was badly injured, the man said. Merah and his older brother Abdelkader visited him there. But later, when the man asked how his father and brother were, Merah replied that he didn’t know, he’d not seen them in a while.
“It was a completely broken family,” the man said.
Related: Suspect was psychologically damaged, not obviously militant, officials say
To his mind, this once again puts doubt in the notion that Abdelkader, already known to French intelligence authorities as holding fundamentalist beliefs, groomed Merah and helped him behind the scenes, as authorities now believe.
An anti-terrorist judge laid preliminary charges against Abdelkader Sunday night.
The El-Hoseine Mosque is one where, its members say, “orthodox” Islam is practiced. But it’s not radical in the sense that in none of the imam’s teachings does he counsel hatred, they say. The cleric, Mamadou Daffé, in fact, is a respected researcher in biochemistry at the Centre National de la recherché scientifique.
Daffé was out of the country during the Star’s visit to the mosque last Sunday, but members said last Friday he used his sermon to warn that the Qur’an cannot be used to commit injustice.
In fact, as with some other mosques in France, whose clerics have spoken out and even hired bodyguards, there are more radical elements in the Muslim community demanding a harder line at this mosque.
In this presidential campaign, even before the Merah affair, Islam has been top of mind, and the many different and diverse Muslim communities in France have felt targetted.
President Nicholas Sarkozy said there were “too many immigrants on our territory” and promised to cut the numbers in half. One of his ministers said that “not all civilizations are equal” and cited the full facial veil worn by some women. Politicians railed against the proliferation of halal meat.
Since the Merah incidents, many now feel these controversies and debates will become even more widespread among the populace, something Messaoui said is driving more second- and third-generation Muslims to strongly embrace their faith in response.
“Identity is at the heart of things,” Messaoui said. “The current debate says this, ‘Be proud to be French, if you’re not Muslim.’ That’s at the heart of things.
“All they talk about is Islam,” he adds. “Look at our schools, they’re terrible. Look at the services around us, they’re terrible.”
Ironically, Messaoui said he’s trained to help the unemployed find jobs, as an “insertion counsellor,” but is currently unable to find a job in his field.
With these sentiments, then, a mistrust of the central government is perhaps not so hard to understand, its version of what happened with Merah included.
Messaoui asks the conspiratorial question, that with the centre-right Sarkozy’s campaign flagging, could a terrorist threat rally support?
Such feelings are not limited to the mosque. At a public assembly earlier this week to remember the victims, a group of several young Muslim women also expressed doubt in the state’s version of what happened with Merah.
It’s by no means universal, however. Linda Saidia, 19, at first thought the killer was a right-wing extremist. When it became clear Merah was inspired by radical Islam, she was simply saddened. “He was lost. A Muslim would never kill children,” she said.
In the wake of any tragedy there is always soul searching. Within France’s mosques and political backrooms, this could not be more obvious.
thestar.com |
